20 years later
by Izume Smith
Summary: 20 years have passed since the gate was sealed for good when somehow, the Elric brothers manage to get tossed back into their own world. But things have changed, people have died and a new war has begun to unfold.


Rain fell from the sky like a waterfall, drenching the world below and transforming it into a sea of mud for the weary traveler to slip in. A key turned in a lock as a girl finished her work for the day. She held a newspaper above her to keep her head dry as she darted down the street, avoiding the most slippery spots. She sidestepped a passing pedestrian and stepped underneath the overhang of a shop.

She lowered the paper, which was already soaked beyond use and gazed at the relentless sky with azure optics. Pushing a lock of golden hair behind her ear, she lifted the useless paper over her head once more and continuing on in the rain. She stopped beneath another overhang just a ways down the street, praying for the rain to stop.

A stranger not a foot or so away glanced at her for a moment, not removing the hood from his head. She didn't even take notice, preparing herself to venture the rest of the way to her home. Things had changed in this town in the last twenty years, it was no longer the small place it had once been, not since he had left.

"Word on the street is you're the best automail mechanic around." the stranger said without looking her way again.

A cross look appeared on her face, why couldn't people talk to her about that when she was at work, and not everywhere else. Sure, she loved to build it, but not as much as she had since that day.

"If you need maintenance or some new automail, you'll have to talk to my receptionist." she said before stepping once more back out into the rain.

The stranger pulled his hood off as she dashed down the street, intent on avoiding exposure to the rain as much as possible now. His eyes followed her down the street until she had entered her home before pushing his gloved hands through his short blonde hair. Things really had changed, and it wasn't just his new haircut either. He clenched his automail hand shut, he'd long since broken the automail she had given him.

Sighing, he pulled his hood back over his head and walked in the other direction she had. He didn't want to be a bother to Winry and Pinako, not after he had been gone for so long. Besides, Al was waiting for him in the room they had rented.

"I'm home," Winry said more to herself than the empty house around her as she pulled the muddy shoes from her feet, tossing the paper into a wet mess besides them. She would clean it up later.

The house looked nearly the same as it had since she was a child, one exception being Pinako's absence. She had passed away just over three years ago, leaving Winry alone. It had been years since she had last been in contact with anyone from Central; it brought back too many painful memories.

She pulled down a box of noodles out of one of the cupboards, but didn't get out a pan to make them in. Her mind was mulling over the stranger on the street. His voice sounded familiar in a dream-like sense, but she couldn't put a name to it.

Sighing, she leaned back against the counter, closing her eyes as she did so. A dull throbbing began in her head.

"What do you mean, brother?" Al asked

"I'm saying she didn't even look twice at me," Ed replied, glancing out the curtained window.

"Well, twenty years is a long time. Maybe she didn't recognize you."

Ed dropped into the chair next to the window before saying, "This is Winry we're talking about Al. She doesn't forget."

They sat in silence, brooding over everything that had happened. Finally Ed stood and prepared to leave again, pulling the ebon hood onto his head.

"Where are you going?"

Ed placed his hand on the door handle and said, "I think it's about time to pay my respects to Izume, don't you?"

The wooden barrier opened before him and he stepped out into the hall, leaving Al to ponder in silence.

The heat seared toward them with all the might of the sun. Bringing with it shrapnel that was deadlier than any man's gun. Time seemed to move in slow motion, their imminent doom apparent. Then suddenly, the gate opened. Swallowing them and the bomb like a black hole.

They opened their eyes to find themselves magnificently and strangely, before the gate. They had not died, that much they were sure of. Perhaps this was some twist of fate, or maybe because t he bomb had originated from their world. Whatever the reason, the cause, they were home now.

Home; that word felt strange on their tongues. What was home? Where was it? They had had so many.

The sound of metal hitting the cold, wooden floor reached Winry's ears, startling her out of her work. She'd been in her workshop for nearly ten hours. But now, as she reached down to retrieve the fallen washer, she couldn't fight off her tiredness any longer.

Replacing the fallen washer on the table before her, she stood. Her gaze drifted around her work area, parts were laying willy-nilly and she hadn't yet packaged any of the finished automail. Sighing, she left the room, shutting off the lights behind her.

Sirenia had already left for the day, but she had left a note for Winry that she quickly read. The girl had gotten an urgent call from her family and needed to take an indefinite leave. She read the note again before tossing it into the trash. Where would she find another receptionist that she wouldn't have to train?

A poster was quickly pulled out of the filing cabinet and taped to the small window by the door. The sooner she got it up, the better.

"Look at this brother!" Al said, stopping before a small shop window.

"Come on Al, we don't' have time to stop at every shop. We've got to find some kind of job soon." Ed said, pulling his brown coat tighter about him.

Their money from Munich was worthless here and they had only a minimal amount of money from their own world left. Al took a step back, looking at his brother slowly walking down the street.

"I'll catch up to you later brother." Al said before disappearing inside.

"Hey, wait a..." he turned to find Al, but as he was already gone, he turned back around and continued on.

"Hello?" Al called out as he entered the front area of the shop. The desk was empty and the restroom unoccupied. He called out again and, receiving no answer, proceeded forward to the only unchecked door.

It swung open easily, revealing Winry's workshop. He looked at the parts strewn about the room, replacing a forlorn screwdriver to its place on the counter as he stepped inside.

"Hello?"

The lights hummed eerily overhead and lit the room with a vengeance. He walked over to the table, examining the unfinished automail. A shadow loomed over him and he narrowly avoided the wrench that almost come down on his head, but instead scattered loose bolts, screws, nuts and washers. The wielder didn't hesitate to swing it back up again, nearly hitting Alphonse's jaw hard enough to break it.

"You thieving scumbag!" she said in an obvious rage, "I'll teach you a lesson you won't soon forget!"

Al dodged the deadly weapon once more, finding the words suddenly, "I was here about the job!"

"Likely story," she said, bringing the wrench around once more, connecting with the soft flesh of Al's upper arm. He let out a startled gasp and, in an attempt to save himself from further injury, he ducked under the table, grabbing a screw as he did so.

Winry upended the table, leaving her work in a chaotic pile of metal. She raised her arm, preparing a bone shattering blow as Al frantically carved a transmutation circle into the belly of the table. He clapped his hands to it, transforming it into a shield and lifted it just as Winry's blow landed.

The force of the blow reverberated down Alphonse's arm, causing him to clench his teeth against the pain. He watched Winry carefully, but she didn't seem intent on injuring Al further. Winry stepped away, her hand falling idle to her side. A dim flame of recognition spark in her eyes, but it was quickly doused by a river of reality. Al lowered the shield slowly, unsure if he was safe from her metallic weapon.

Winry placed a steaming mug before Al, taking her seat across the desk from him. He looked into the murky substance before him, unsure of how he should start.

"Sorry about the way I reacted, people just can't be too certain these days," Winry said, taking a sip from her own mug.

He looked up at her, realizing just what Ed had meant, she had forgotten. She treated him as one would a stranger they had just met, though he couldn't expect much better.

"I've had worse reactions," he said, lifting the mug to his lips.

The steaming liquid seeped down his throat as he fought the urge to spit it back into the cup. The vile drink tasted like dirt, no, worse than dirt for at least dirt has the occasional taste of a fair weather being. A small smile splayed across Winry's lips.

"Sorry, I should have warned you about the taste," she set her cub aside before continuing, "it should help your arm feel better faster." She glanced away guiltily.

"Thanks," he said, the bitter taste still lingering on his tongue.

"So do you have any experience?" she asked, steering the question away from her rash actions.

His face carried a confused look for a moment before he answered, "yeah, I worked as a secretary for about 16 years," he failed to tell her where he had worked though.

He could almost see the gears in her brain turning as she processed the information. His eyes wandered back to the cup sitting before him. The tea tasted familiar, though he couldn't place where he had been forced to digest it before.

"That's enough to satisfy me," she said, "you've obviously never been in trouble with the law if you worked as a secretary for 16 years." She handed him a piece of parchment with all the things she would need him to do before heading over towards her workshop, mug in hand.

"I never caught your name," she added as an afterthought.

Startled, he met her gaze and said, "Alphonse, Al for short."

She mouthed the name, studying him for a moment longer before locking herself in her workshop.

The rain had begun to pour relentlessly by the time Winry and Al left for the day. Pulling his hood up slightly to protect him from some of the algid rain. The world seemed covered by a curtain and Al didn't realize just how slick the ground was until it was too late.

His heart jumped to his throat as he fell backwards, landing in t he gooey substance covering the streets. Gasping for breath, he struggled to regain his footing without being rewarded by another fall. Successfully doing so, he cautiously proceeded down the street.

The large building loomed up ahead and he hurried to approach it. He never thought to check for oncoming cars and, as he was covered from head to toe in yet more muck, he spotted a familiar figure in the back of the car.

The black hair and eye patch was unmistakable. _But what is he doing here?_ Al thought as he pushed the mud from his face.

Al darted out into the street, intent on making it into the building before he got any filthier.

A mocking laughter filled the air.

"You're covered in mud Al!" Ed exclaimed, clutching his side as the laughter escaped his lips.

"Stop laughing Ed! It's not funny!" Al pouted.

"Yes it is, it's hysterical!" Ed snorted.

"Well at least I worked today."

"Yeah, probably pushing papers," Ed said, regaining his composure slightly, "besides, who's to say I didn't find a job?"

"Working for the military again?"

Ed's laughter ceased, "Why the hell would I join up with Lieutenant Colonel Poppycock and the gang again?"

"I don't know. You tell me," he turned, walking quickly into the bathroom and shutting the door with a resonating click.

Ed's eyes rested on the wooden barrier. _What's gotten into him?_

"Let me know when you've changed your tampon," Ed called out, receiving the sound of running water as his only reply.

Silence stretched through the room as Ed contemplated his situation. He hadn't found work toady, though maybe he should go back to the military. It was good pay...but no, he had given up that life and he was not going back to being Roy's dog.

"This may not be much of a hick town anymore, but you'd think there'd be a job somewhere..." he muttered.

The sound of raping knuckles on the wooden door reached his ears. Ed pushed himself from the bed. _Who the hell's calling on us?_ He wondered as he turned the brass doorknob. A boy of eight years stood there. Fist still raised to the now empty doorway. His auburn hair poked out from below a beanie style hat. His azure eyes looked up at Ed dutifully as he stepped back.

"Miss. Rockbell has requested Alphonse come to the shop immediately. She says customers of certain importance have arrived to pick up parts," the boy finally stopped to take a breath.

Ed glanced toward the bathroom door. Al was a bit preoccupied at the moment. His gaze moved back to the child still standing there.

"Thanks, I'll see that he gets there," Ed said.

The boy disappeared down the hall and Ed grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair. Al was in the tub. There was no use bothering him.

The rain had calmed down by the time Ed reached the shop. The open door of the shop afforded a hectic view inside. Winry was flying back and forth between her shop and the desk, carrying hastily wrapped automail.

Winry stopped her flurry of work for a moment and Ed entered.

"I'm sorry, we're closed." she said crisply, moving over to usher him back out the door.

"Alphonse sent me," Ed explained, "He was a bit busy, if you know what I mean."

Winry looked at him and said, "Fine. But I know exactly how much of everything is this shop. Don't let me find it missing."

She gestured for him to follow her into the workshop and instantaneously began loading him up with packaged automail. A black car pulled to a stop out front and Winry pushed him toward the door, grabbing several packages from the desk as she followed him.

Someone opened the trunk of the car and Winry began the process of placing them inside it. Once they had both been relieved of the automail, they shuffled back inside several more times until the trunk was full of their delicate wares. The lid slammed down and Ed found himself face to face with none other than the ebony haired, azure suited flame alchemist, Roy Mustang.

"Poppycock..." Ed muttered under his breath, fully aware that he was staring straight at him. Winry ran inside to write up a bill of sale for Mustang to give to the treasury. He knew that she didn't trust mailing it. The recognition in Mustang's eyes was unmistakable. He knew Ed.

"I thought you were out of my hair for good Full Metal," Roy commented, apparently bored with the subject.

"I'm not interested Mustang. Give it a rest," Ed said dejectedly.

"You know what the punishment is for going A.W.O.L.?"

"Forget it, you know as well as I do that I didn't go A.W.O.L., someone had to break the gate from the other side."

"Do you just expect to prance around like nothings changed? Twenty years is a long time, people change, and things change. You'll need connections to move up in the world."

"Not interested. I'm sick of being a dog of the military so go play fetch with someone else."

Mustang's reply was cut off as Winry returned, carrying a parchment in her hand.

"Here you are Fuhrer," Winry said, extending it to him, he accepted it, putting it quickly into his pocket.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you Miss. Rockbell," he replied, stepping into the car as Ed stared dumbfounded after him.

"Fuh...rer..." he mumbled, his shock apparent.

The car accelerated forward and Winry let out a sigh. Her shoulders drooped forward and it seemed, for a moment, as if she had forgotten that she was standing in the road. Edward too, still stood there, his gaze lingering on the empty road ahead of him.

"I suppose I should thank you for your help," she said suddenly, startling Ed.

"It was no big deal," he replied.

"Could I offer you something to drink?"

"No, I should be getting back, Al's probably pretty flustered by now."

"Well, I won't keep you then. But if you're looking for a job, I might have room for one more on my payroll."

"I might just take you up on that," he said as he began to walk away. He added, almost unthinkingly, "Say hi to Pinako for us, would ya?"

Winry's hand froze mid reach. The door before her remained shut as her mind reeled. _Pinako? How did he...But he couldn't know her. That would mean she would know these two!_

Ed's face flashed through her mind and she shook her head. This was absurd. Pinako had had a thousand customers she hadn't known. But she couldn't shake the image of Ed from her mind.

The sun hid behind a light cloud cover as men dressed in blue uniforms stormed through the streets. Knocking on doors and evacuating homes, leaving family belongings behind. The ruckus down the hall woke Ed and Al.

"Think you're loud enough?" Ed muttered.

The two had just enough time to get dressed before the pounding began at their door. Ed pulled his gloves on before opening the door. The blond haired sharp shooter from Edward's military time stood in the doorway.

"Sir, I request that you and all other tenants would please vacate the room, or we will do so by force."

Ed stared at her for a moment blankly. She hadn't changed much, except the few graying hairs amid her blond crown.

"...uh...What's going on?"

"There's no time for explanations. Please vacate immediately or I will be required to use force." he gun clicked threateningly.

"Hang on a sec. Al, come on," he said as he closed and unlocked the door before opening it again.

Hawkeye nodded as they reappeared and redirected them down the hallway and out the building. The streets were crowded as men, women and children of all ages were loaded into trucks. They passed by a group of one or two soldiers, none of whom Ed recognized.

"...some girl up the road."

"Scoundrels came in the dead of the night."

"Crying shame. I heard Brigadier General can't get anyone to go into Ayallah territories and the Fuhrer won't let him go."

Ed stopped in his tracks and Al ran into him. There was a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he just couldn't shake. He had a feeling that the girl they were talking about was Winry.

"Stay with the trucks Al, I'll catch up to you."

"But..."

Ed was lost in the crowd before Al could protest. There was no doubt in his mind that Armstrong would have become Brigadier General by now and his suspicions were soon confirmed.

Armstrong arose before him as stately as ever and in the same uniform that Brigadier General Grant had once worn. He was giving orders to a group of soldiers who almost immediately departed.

"Hey Armstrong!" Ed called, his previous promises forgotten.

Armstrong turned as Ed drew himself up to full height, raising his hand in a salute, saying loudly, "Full Metal Alchemist, reporting for duty."

"Edward Elric," Armstrong said, a long overdue wave of relief washing over him, "it's good to see you again."

The crowd around them burst into mutters. Edward Elric? Impossible. He had disappeared over twenty years ago, hadn't he? The prodigy alchemist, youngest ever to be instated. Was this a miracle or a joke?

"I trust you have been informed with the current situation?"

"No, I haven't actually. Would you mind filling me in, Brigadier General?"

"After you left, the war with the Ishballans died down, but a group of rogue Ishballans, criminals and the such, calling themselves the Ayallah started claiming land. We've been at war with them for nearly ten years.

"Right. And what's this I hear about you needing volunteers?"

"Astute as usual Elric. Miss. Rockbell has been taken captive. Apparently they botched their attack plans last night. You can thank Miss. Rockbell for that."

"I'm going after her."

"I'll get Maevock to show you as far as their headquarters. After that you're on your own."

"Thanks Armstrong."

Armstrong halted a passing soldier who returned momentarily with a girl of about 20. She had chestnut colored hair that was cropped so it was longer in the front than in the back. Her face was set in what appeared to be a near constant stubborn look, offset by her emerald optics and darker, almost Ishballan, skin.

She wore the same uniform as the rest of the soldiers had, minus the fact that instead of azure pants, it was a miniskirt. She had a moderate build so the skirt didn't look as good as it would have on someone with a slightly smaller frame. _My god!_ Ed thought, _he actually went through with it!_

"Lieutenant Maevock, this is Edward Elric, the Full Metal Alchemist," Armstrong said, "You will be escorting him as far as Ayallah headquarters."

She looked at him with hardened eyes. Almost as if she were assessing him. Ed felt a slight chill creep down his spine. She reminded him of Roy, only he had been a Lieutenant Colonel. Ed extended his hand anyways.

"It's nice to meet you," he said wondering if it had been her father or mother who was of Ishballan blood.

Maevock raised her hand and saluted him coldly instead.

"Permission to speak, sir," she said in an almost sing song voice, addressing Armstrong.

"Permission granted."

"I formerly request permission to change into clothing more suited for our mission sir."

"Granted. Be back within the quarter of the hour."

"Yes, sir," she said before hurrying away.

Ed turned his eyes to Amrstrong and said, "She's a bit young, isn't she?"

Armstrong studied him for a moment before saying, "We could have said the same of you. She joined up as soon as she was old enough to. We don't really know all that much about her except that she has a hell of a way of getting around and one hell of a vendetta against the Ayallah. Though who doesn't in this day and age."

Ed looked away from Armstrong's questioning gaze. He knew that Armstrong probably had a thousand questions he was holding in. He also had taken notice of Armstrong's lack of gloating. Roy had been right, people change.

Lieutenant Maevock reappeared a few minutes later, dressed in a traditional Ishballan garb almost maroon in color. Her feet were clad in sandals and, just barely visible below the edge of the dress was a pair of pants should she need to discard the foremost outfit. Her wrists were decorated with golden bangles, giving her and almost gypsyish look.

Armstrong saluted Maevock and she returned the gesture before turning to lead Edward out of the city. Casting one last look over his shoulder, Ed tried to find his brother. Alphonse was nowhere in sight, so Ed turned forward again, following Maevock's lead.

The town had become a dim spot on the horizon by the time the sun began to set. Neither of them had said a word to each other since leaving Risenbul that morning. Ed had realized earlier that day that she was an inch or two shorter than him, but she was still setting a pace that he found hard to keep. They had stopped at noon, Maevock providing a ration that she had kept hidden on her person somehow.

"Hey, shouldn't we stop soon?" Ed asked, feeling slightly winded.

"No," she said, not turning around, "we have to keep going."

"Okay then, do you have a first name I can call you by?"

"Andrala. And no, you may not."

The terrain began to rise at a not-so-gentle slope. The ground was becoming rockier and Andrala slowed her pace slightly to adjust to the trickier footing.

"Can I ask you something?" she didn't reply, "What is it exactly that you have against me?"

She stopped, facing him and leaving him with the challenge of trying to balance. "My mission is to get you there. Armstrong said nothing about me having to like you."

"You didn't answer my question!"

"Come on," she said, starting to traverse the rocky land again, "we have to get you a new outfit before morning. You smell of dog."

Ed bit back a reply, not wanting to start an argument right now. The land began to level off again and a small cottage came into view. It appeared empty and deserted at first, but as they drew closer, a dim light could be seen through the heavy curtains.

Andrala approached the door swiftly and cautiously. Her hand extended quickly to knock before saying something Ed couldn't recognize or understand. He stood back a few steps as the door was opened. They conversed sharply before Andrala motioned Ed to get inside.

A tall, gruff man swathed in a dull green shirt and tan pants locked the door with a resounding click followed by a thud. Andrala shifted out of the way so the man could go sit in his chair perched precariously between the hearth and table. Ed caught a glance of the man's face lit ominously by the dim fire.

The mustache had long since lost its color, but the man was very much the barkeep he had once been. Though his eyes looked at Edward, empty and blank.

"Cornello just...vanished one day..." his voice was a whisper as hoarse as any crows, "you tried...tried to tell us...but...we didn't..."

Losing his faith had nearly driven him insane. When he wanted a miracle, he'd found destruction and despair. He had tried so hard to cope with the change, but when Armstrong had changed his shop using alchemy, it had been the last straw. He'd lost his mind, and world.

Andrala's eyes flicked to Ed as if her suspicions had been confirmed.


End file.
